So this chapters kind of short, but here it is.
Three: Smack Down
The first week of school passed rather uneventfully. To her surprise, Santana found she had three classes with that Brittany girl. Even more to her surprise, she actually felt a strange desire to go to class. All week she'd been a good girl. That all ended Friday morning.
The hallways were crowded as people rushed to get to first period. Keen for a ciggie break, Santana stepped into the girls' bathroom and stopped short. A tableau seemed to be frozen before her. A girl was on the ground, another holding her by the hair. Two other girls stood nearby, watching.
Santana went to leave when the girl on the floor turned to look at her. Santana instantly recognised those sky-blue eyes.
Just go, she ordered herself. It's not worth it. Just turn around and go. But she didn't.
"What the fuck is going on," she asked.
The other three girls looked at her. "Just putting her in her place," one said. "Stay out of it, bitch."
"I don't think so," Santana said. She jumped forward and pulled Brittany to her feet, quickly retreating. She quickly gave Brittany a once over, making sure she was alright. "Apologize to her."
"I beg your pardon? Stay the hell out of this."
Santana stepped forward with a humourless laugh. "Okay, let me make this clearer. Apologize 'afore I endz you, white bread."
"Bite me, ghetto-trash," the other girl challenged, stepping forward. The other two girls hurriedly stepped forward to support her. Santana and the leader stared at each other for a long moment, their faces millimetres apart. Then Santana slapped her.
"Bitch," the other girl screamed. All three girls jumped Santana at once, biting, hitting, kicking, scratching. Santana lashed out. One of the girls staggered back with a bleeding nose. Another fell down.
'You guys fight like a bunch of-," Santana screeched before something thudded into her stomach. She keeled over. The others descended like vultures. Blows rained down upon her. Santana gripped on of their legs, digging in her nails. They wrenched away.
Santana lashed out blindly. Her foot struck something soft. One of the girls staggered back. Santana stood hurriedly. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her pocketknife. She pressed the switch and the knife flicked out. It wasn't really much of a knife. But it was enough to make the other girls pale. The last girl stared at Santana for a few moments, then turned and fled. The other two left hot on her tail.
"And that's how we do it in Lima Heights," Santana called after their retreating backs. She turned to inspect Brittany. "Are you okay?
Brittany's tears had dried on her face. "You're so bad-ass," she whispered. "You're like…Puss in Boots…only even more epic."
"Cheers," Santana said, walking over to the other girl. "So, what the hell was all that about."
"I don't know," the other girl said. "I was just talking to Noah, and they grabbed me. They said they needed to talk to me. Then the started hitting me. They were like, 'how dare you be his friend' or something."
"Really? All that over a boy? That's kind of desperate."
Santana heard someone else enter the bathroom. She turned to see Brittany's friend, the blonde one with the bad taste in clothes.
The blonde caught sight of Brittany. "What's wrong," she asked, seeing the tears on Brittany's face. Her eyes flicked to Santana. "What did you do to her?" She stormed over, forcing Santana back.
"Nothing," Santana protested, backing up. 'I just saved her ass, no thanks to you."
The blonde girl assessed her for a moment. Then she turned back to Brittany.
'You're welcome," Santana said, leaving the other girl cooing over Brittany.
"Santana." Brittany's voice stopped her in the doorway. "Thankyou."
"Yeah, whatevs," Santana said with fake nonchalance. The door swung shut behind her.
The hallway was less crowded as Santana slowly made her way to class. Hesitantly, she reached up to touch her face. Her cheek was hot and swollen. She'd probably have an almighty black eye the next day. The pain in her side told her that wouldn't be her only bruise.